


Marvel One-Shots

by Azeran



Series: Marvel Slash [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, FrostIron - Freeform, IronFrost - Freeform, Loki - Freeform, Loki Feels, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Feels, Thor - Freeform, Thorki - Freeform, Thunderfrost - Freeform, frostshield - Freeform, steve rogers - Freeform, stoki - Freeform, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots that I'll write when the mood strikes me. The first few are Stoki, but expect some Frostiron and Thorki in here as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Luggage Mix Up

**Author's Note:**

> Eheheh. Yeah. This is all thanks to a post I saw on tumblr listing different prompt ideas featured around an airport, things like that. One of them stuck, soooo I had to give it a whirl! Hope you enjoy :D
> 
> Pst. I don't own Marvel. Just so you know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm sorry, is this the home of Ms. Skywalker? There was a mix up at the airport, and I took her luggage by mistake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stoki! One of my newer loves, and it is slowly laying claim to my soul.

"I'm sorry, is this the home of Ms. Skywalker? There was a mix up at the airport, and I took her luggage by mistake." Steve pushed the wheeled suitcase in front of him and smiled sheepishly at the man in the doorway. He didn't look impressed. In fact, he was looking at Steve with all sorts of mistrust, one pale hand splayed across the door frame as his fingers tapped away at it impatiently. Steve frowned. That wasn't a good sign. "...This is the right address, isn't it?" 

"I assume you must be Steven Rogers then." 

The cultured voice didn't surprise him half as much as how husky it sounded. Steve had heard that voice before. This man sounded exactly like the woman he'd spotted at the baggage terminal, back at the airport. If not for the fact that she'd been long haired and graceful, dressed to the nine in a tailored skirt and pumps, he could almost believe they were the same person. There was certainly a strong resemblance. Family, maybe? 

"That's me," pausing only for a split second, Steve held out his hand. "Most people call me Steve." He knew it was a smart idea, writing his name and number on the ID tag of his luggage. Accidents happened. Apparently Loki Skywalker felt the same. Now if he could just meet her, and apologize- "Is she home? I'd like to apologize for this mishap. I know it had to be a real inconvenience for her. There was a lot of stuff in the suitcase." 

"You looked inside?" Laurel greens immediately drew into thin slits, a strong match for the lips that curved up at a sharp angle. "I suppose the sight of all that lace was an apparent enough sign that the luggage wasn't your own." The man ignored his outstretched hand and gestured for Steve to follow him inside, showing the elegant arch of his neck, and a well formed backside. 

To his credit, Steve didn't stare too much. "I wasn't trying to pry. But I didn't notice the name tag until after I was already home and unpacking." He stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him, respectfully lingering back in the front hall. It was unnerving, standing there with the suitcase at his feet, but he wasn't going anywhere without confirmation it was ok. Confirmation that couldn't come soon enough. Shifting his weight and fiddling with the suitcase handle, Steve waited--and waited some more. "Is Ms. Skywalker here? I really want to-"

"The name is Loki. I appreciate the sentiment, but it seems a moot point now. They say once you've seen the contents of someone's suitcase, there's no need for formality. You practically know them spiritually." Again that husky voice drifted across him, and the tall brunette reappeared, wheeling a suitcase that was virtually identical to Steve's. "I believe this belongs to you." 

"Yeah..thanks." Steve took it with a little frown. There was something weird about all this. The more he looked at this man, with his perfectly sculpted cheekbones and raven hair that were so similar to Ms. Skywalker's, the more Steve's gut warned him that he was screwing something up. The resemblance was uncanny. Almost too much so for it to be as simple as a blood relation. Unless they were twins? That would explain the identical faces and builds...

Though not how he knew what was inside the suitcase he now had at his side. Only one person should know that. The one who had packed it in the first place; its owner. Ahh. Steve grimaced, sheepishly pushing the hefty bag towards him. "You're her, aren't you? You're Loki Skywalker." 

"Mmm...and they say the pretty ones aren't smart." Laughter bubbled from those thin lips, which was really all the confirmation Steve needed. This was her. That gorgeous woman Steve had glimpsed in the airport was the man standing before him now, laughing at his expense. Damn. 

"I guess it's too late to apologize now, huh?" 

Loki smirked. "You are handling this better than I assumed you would. I suppose that does allow for some clemency." He took his suitcase and set it behind him, fondling the handle almost lazily as he met Steve's eyes. "You must have questions. I'd love to stand here and answer them all, but I do have a prior engagement." Pointedly, he reached past Steve and opened the door, quirking a finely arched brow. "If you please?"

That settled that. Steve nodded quickly and backed off, though he was reluctant to leave. There was something about Loki that drew him in, made him want to know more. Not counting the initial gender mishap. "Right. Sorry." Looking Loki over one more time, he turned tail and headed down the hall, wheeling his suitcase behind him. 

He didn't get far. "Steven?" A pale hand touched the crook of his arm, coaxing him to a stop. For the first time Steve noticed how perfectly rounded the nails were, lily white fingers soft as silk against his skin. "It was kind of you, bringing my property back. Such charity deserves more than a simple thank you." 

"I was only doing the right thing." Steve turned his head and saw that Loki was smiling. Smiling at him. 

"That may be so, but you have earned a reward nonetheless." Loki's fingertips scrolled up his arm, then fell away, allowing him to walk back to his front door. Steve was confused, up until Loki called back to him. "I have business until Friday afternoon. Why don't we meet for lunch then? Your chivalry has made me curious about you, Steven. Not many men would have the heart to do what you did." 

"That's pretty cynical of you. Plenty of guys would return a lady's luggage. Well," Steve chuckled, "who they believed was a lady, anyway." He wanted to ask what was about Loki's clothing selection, but that was a question best left for another time. He cocked his head towards the dark haired man. "What time Friday?" 

Loki hummed, walking into his apartment. "Oh, I'll let you know closer to then." A slip of white appeared between his fingers; the information card from Steve's luggage. It had his name, address--and his phone number on it. "I trust you'll be easy enough to get a hold of. Your current information is updated, isn't it?"

Cheeky. Two could play that game. "Give me a call and find out for yourself." Steve inclined his head to the tall man, unable to stop himself from smiling. "Mr. Skywalker." 

"Mr. Rogers." The door shut with a quiet click, leaving him standing there, happier than he'd ever really admit out loud. And an eagerness for the weekend that couldn't be fulfilled, all thanks to a luggage mix up.


	2. Jazz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, you aren’t the first man to offer me a drink tonight.”
> 
> “Maybe not. But it looks like I’m the first one you’ve accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I have the urge to do something Stoki related, so this is what I'm going to do. One-shots! They won't be interconnected, unless I say otherwise. Here's hoping they bring this small part of the fandom some enjoyment!

He almost didn’t recognize her. Almost. Steve was nothing if not attentive, and he could never forget those sharp, aquiline features, even if they were softened with the natural curves of femininity. Pushing away his drink, he left the table where he’d been sitting alone, enjoying the smooth jazz filtering through the room, and approached the well dressed woman with her elaborate curls. She was aware of him, meeting his eyes with an unabashed quality he couldn’t help but respect. Like a child who knew she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar, yet felt not a flicker of guilt. That left little to no doubt in his mind. 

“Loki.” Polite as can be, Steve stopped at her table and smiled at her, noting the glimmer of surprise in her peridot eyes. She hadn’t been expecting him to recognize her. Interesting. “You look different.” He grasped the only other chair at her table by its back and pulled it out an inch or two, assessing her curious stare. It was piercing, but not as harsh as it could have been. And she hadn’t exactly ordered him away yet either. That was a good sign. “Ok if I join you?” 

“You speak as if I have any choice in the matter,” Loki husked, gesturing with a pale hand. Steve forced himself not to stare at the elegant gesture and took a seat, noting a few more details he hadn’t picked up on before. Her attire, for a start. She’d always had an eye for style, even when she was a he, and back in Germany forcing everyone to subjugate themselves for his own evil schemes. Things were different now, but that hadn’t changed. Steve didn’t have to be a fashion guru to see that Loki was dressed to the nine in her slinky dress and heels, silken gloves encasing her hands and arms almost to the elbow. She fit perfectly into the bar scene, jazz and all. 

There was the other thing he’d noticed. This was a jazz bar. Steve cocked his head, listening to the swelling horns. “You know, I never pictured you as the jazz type.” 

“Is that so? And what, precisely, did you imagine I would listen to?” Loki cupped her chin in her hand and stared at him from across the table, pure amusement making the questions seem far more lighthearted than he’d imagined they would be. This was Loki sitting across from him. Former would be conqueror, now Avenger in the makings. She was stubborn as a mule, vindictive, clever and deadly. Steve was just glad he didn’t have to deal with her animosity. “I’m fond of many types of music, Steven. Though I find yours far more agreeable to my ears than the nonsense Stark insists upon blasting all hours of the day.” 

“Then I’d say you have pretty good taste. Better than most.” His smile warmed a few degrees, as did her own. They’d always been polite to one another since she came to live at the tower, but true friendliness was a whole other can of worms, and the lid had just barely started to crack open over the past few months. Nice to see that hadn’t changed. “Can I ask,” Steve started, flitting his gaze over what part of her he could see. “Is this your magic, or do you just change gender whenever you feel like it?”

Her smug grin was answer enough. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You mortals are the inquisitive sort.” She lifted a shoulder and relaxed in her seat. He glimpsed one stocking clad leg swishing back and forth beneath the table before he pulled his attention back upward, meeting fern greens veiled under smoky mascara. “I am able to change forms at will because of my borne shapeshifting abilities, but the choice to do so is mine, and mine alone.” Loki chuckled. “As you said. It varies in accordance to my own whims.” 

“Your whims, huh?” Now there was that arrogance he was so familiar with. It got a smile out of him, despite his best attempts otherwise. “Well. I guess this explains some of the laundry back home.” 

“So it does.” Loki’s mouth teased higher at the corner. “You know, I had wondered who took such care of my more delicate garments. Stark’s artificial intelligence is skilled in countless areas, but that is not one of them. You have a deft hand, Steven. That is to be commended.” Watching him watch her, she idly drummed her fingertips against the crest of her jaw. “Although…I‘m not entirely certain how I feel about you knowing the contents of my lingerie drawer. Most would consider that a great invasion of privacy.”

Steve grimaced. “if it makes you feel any better, I assumed it was all Natasha’s stuff.” He couldn’t blame her for feeling a bit annoyed, if she even did. It was so hard to tell with Loki sometimes. “How about I make it up to you? You look like you could use a drink.” 

“Indeed. I rarely partake in your mortal liquors, but some are quite pleasant to the palate. I’m partial to the taste of wine.” Loki shifted in her chair, offering her hand out for him to take when he stood, coming around to her side of the table. “You know, you aren’t the first man to offer me a drink tonight.”

“Maybe not,” Steve took it and helped her out of her chair. Her gown swished gently around her calves in a flurry of silk as he led her away towards the bar across the room, Loki’s eyes on his every step of the way. “But it looks like I’m the first one you’ve accepted.”


	3. Christmastime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has come to Avengers Tower, and Loki and Steve dig into their presents a little early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmastime cuteness. Finally, something for the holidays! I'm not really one for the typical celebrations, but I couldn't resist doing something to honor the holly jolly season.

Christmastime was the most festive time of year, and around the Avengers Tower things were taken pretty much to the point of ridiculousness. Lights were strung up everywhere, there was mistletoe and tinsel hanging above practically every door, and damn if someone (meaning Tony) hadn’t decided it would be a good idea to pump certain yuletide scents into the building via the vents. It was borderline extreme--scratch that. It WAS extreme to the max, and everyone pitched in to make sure things were the most outrageous and utterly festive possible. The electric bill alone would be enough to make even Bill Gates flinch. 

Ah, but what was Christmas without the tree? Tony had erected a giant one in the main living room, and it was decorated with so many ornaments that logically the branches should have cracked under their weight. Hell, they pretty much had every color of the rainbow strung up on the tree, from velvety bands to glass bulbs and twinkling little lights that flickered between twenty different hues every few seconds. They’d played music too, until it got so annoying that a certain pair of assassins disabled the tiny speaker boxes. One of those same assassins had added a few patriotic themes to the tree as well. The American flag was surprisingly cheerful looking amidst all the other decorations. And it matched the spangled wrapping paper on Steve’s presents. 

That had been Bruce’s suggestion. Rather than use name tags to distinguish between the gifts, they’d used coordinating colors that matched their Avengers uniforms. Currently there were a whopping hundred or so boxes under the glittering tree Tony had erected in the main living room, all wrapped in a variation of chipper holiday themes and different hues. There was blue, purple, lavender, scarlet, ruby and darker crimson--they really needed better ways to differentiate between them all. All that red could read a little gruesome. It did offset the silver rather nicely though. The gold too. And now, the emerald. 

Yeah. There was one extra person to buy presents for this year, surprising as it may be. But Loki had been one of them for months now. A certified Avenger, even if he didn’t really recognize it himself. It was a work in progress, according to Tony. Chip away his icy exterior until they got to the core of him. It was pretty likely that Loki wouldn’t be too thrilled if he knew the inventor thought of him in those terms. Call it a hunch. The god could deny his newfound status all he wanted though, because it didn’t change their feelings. Or the pile of gifts sitting innocuously beneath the bower of pine needles and tinsel, all wrapped in emerald and forest green wrapping paper. Well, save for the few that stood out in their brilliant gold and pure silk ribbons. Those had to be from Tony. He always went the extra step. 

Funny how a little thing like that could spark uncertainty. Stopping in the living room doorway with a box in hand, the patriotic member of their ragtag team stared at the hoard of gifts. He’d grown up in a time where money was scarce, and this kind of wealth was barely imaginable. Now, he didn’t have to worry about money ever again, even without Tony’s aid. But in the face of all this opulence and splendor, it was pretty easy to see that his and the other Avenger’s idea of gift giving was pretty different. Steve frowned, looking at the package he held. In comparison to the others, it was a decent size. He already knew what Natasha had gotten Loki, seeing as how they’d gone Christmas shopping together. Bruce and Clint were a mystery, and Thor--honestly, there was no telling what he’d get his brother. No doubt it’d be ridiculously sentimental in nature. Then there were the gifts from Sam, Rhodey, Bucky. Steve couldn’t wait to see what his best friend had gotten the trickster. Their budding friendship was amazing. 

That just left Tony’s. Tony’s, in all their fancy wrappings and excessive trimmings. 

“Maybe there’s some truth to the compensating rumors,” Steve mumbled, carrying his gift over to the tree. They’d gone the secret Santa route this year, keeping a veil of secrecy over the whole thing. In theory, nobody was supposed to know who’d given what until after all the presents were open and accounted for. It was a theory because they were smarter than the average bunch, and would figure it out ages before Christmas day. But it was a nice idea nonetheless. It also saved them all from dealing with the annoying name tags and labels. Those things were a nuisance. Not that Tony’s needed them anyway. His presents stood out in the bunch, the metaphorical elephant in the room. 

Steve thumbed the edge of his package, staring at the mound of bright gold. There was no limit to the present giving, which had been Tony’s rule. Anybody could buy whomever as many things as they wanted, which gave the billionaire free reign to shower each and every one of the Avengers with his wealth. His favorite hobby, Steve was pretty sure. But this--this was asinine. The golden packages outweighed the emerald, except for two smaller ones papered in stripes of silver and emerald that he was certain came from Bucky. Not that Steve could prove it. “Dammit Tony…” 

“My, such language. And what has Stark done to earn this animosity?” The swish of fine fabric behind him was a perfect match to the cultured tones used only by their resident god of mischief. Steve turned around and saw Loki leaning casually on the door frame, his dark hair in a tumble of waves around his narrow face. He had a whole stack of presents in his arms, which was a pleasant surprise. Sure, the Avengers had made it their mission to include Loki in on the Christmas celebration, but to see him joining in of his own free will was--well, it was nice. 

"Hey Loki." Steve set his present beneath the tree and approached the trickster. "You need some help with those?" He took note of all the different sized boxes, both amused and flattered to see one of them was wrapped in shiny blue paper with a crimson bow on top. "is that for Thor?" You never know. They did share two of the same colors, after all. 

Accepting his assistance with the gifts, Loki skillfully maneuvered three into his arms and re-situated the rest. One of which was the one in question Steve had been eyeing. "I have not yet found what I shall give my brother for Yuletide. Thor is difficult to please." Loki gave him a half smile that was more mysterious than anything and walked past Steve to the tree. "These are for you and your teammates, Captain." 

Something warm settled in his chest, making his smile grow wider. "You know, I have a hard time picturing you out shopping with the rest of us celebrators. Just tell me now. Is any part of New York on fire?" 

"No, although a few of your fellow mortals did test my ire," Loki chuckled. "One was quite adamant about possessing the same scarf I had chosen for Doctor Banner, and I was forced to persuade her otherwise." Seeing the look on Steve's face, he smirked. "Trust when I say that she walked away from our altercation virtually unscathed. Only her ego suffered any residual blows." 

"Well, at least it was only her ego." Steve couldn't really ask for much more than that. Loki may be a reformed villain, and he'd worked hard to be better, but he was still mischievous in nature. He was just thankful Loki hadn't physically harmed anyone. "So you got Bruce a scarf?"

Loki set that particular gift under a branch laden with tinsel and nodded. "I had thought he would appreciate the sentiment. He is not a man of many riches, but a scarf is versatile. And it will not harm his more delicate sensibilities. I know the Doctor prefers simpler gifts, if he is to receive them at all. This was the only choice I could bring myself to consider without spending more ludicrous amounts of money and risking his dissatisfaction." 

That...was really respectful, come to think of it. "Don't worry about that, Loki. Bruce is going to love it. You can never have too many scarves," Steve smiled, well aware of the trickster's own growing collection. He'd almost considered getting him the same thing. "So I guess you got everybody's presents then? Except Thor's," he amended, seeing the argument taking shape. He looked at the final present in Loki's hands, curiosity eating at him. Whether on purpose or not, Loki was holding the present Steve was positive belonged to him. "Can I ask-"

"You will have yours when the time calls for it, and not a moment sooner." Pointedly, Loki set the patriotic themed gift under the tree with the others and then hesitated, his hand drifting over the mini stack of gold that belonged to him. "What is all this?" 

Of course he'd ask. Steve set his half of the presents down in their respective places and nudged the tawny colored pile. "They're yours. From Tony." When Loki turned a surprised gaze on him, he shrugged and offered a wry grin. "You know how he is. I'm pretty sure excessive is his middle name." 

"You may be right. I don't believe I've received this many gifts since I was but a small child." Loki quizzically picked up each and every one of the boxes, fondling them with a thoughtful hum. "His charity is well intended, I'm sure. But where is your gift, Captain? Or have you not purchased me anything yet?" 

Actually, he had. And since Loki was so obviously curious, Steve shifted Tony's stack out of the way to reveal his present to the tower's resident chaos bringer. It wasn't overly big, but it wasn't small either, and the paper was a lighter shade of green in comparison to what the others had chosen. More like his eyes. "You were a challenge, Loki. I've never had to shop for an alien before." Steve brought the box out and showed it to Loki, hiding his smile. Loki looked like he wanted to tear into it, right then and there. "You can have it on Christmas. That's when we're all trading up." 

"Mm. You are using my own words against me then." Staring at the gift, Loki's viridian eyes suddenly lit up. "I applaud your cleverness, Captain. But may I offer you a deal? I believe it will benefit us both." He plucked up the present that belonged to Steve and held it out, eagerly looking at his own. "You and I both are curious about what we've found for each other. Let us trade now, and then I will set the packages to right after we're done. It will be as if nothing ever happened." 

Wow. Loki really had to be curious, to make an offer like that. "What's stopping you from doing that with all the other gifts too?" Steve slowly extended the present out to Loki, watching him do the same. "Don't you want to know what Tony got you?" 

"Of course. But Stark is predictable in his opulence. You, however, are a conundrum." Loki reached out to touch the silver and gold ribbon adorning his present, stopping when his fingertips skimmed one of the decorative loops. Waiting for permission? It seemed like it. "Yours is the only curiosity I must slake," Loki murmured, persuasiveness dripping from every word. "Now may I have my gift....Steven?" 

That was the first time Loki had ever called him by his name. Funny how a detail like that stuck out to him. "Sure." Steve gave him a radiant smile, feeling warm all the way down to his toes. They both took a seat at the foot of the Christmas tree and swapped presents, the blue and gold ribbons tangling together for a split second. He hardly noticed. He was too busy staring at Loki, and his enthused grin as he gently handled the box. Like it was utterly precious to him. "I hope you like it." Steve busied himself with his own gift, catching that bright iris watching him. With interest, he realized. And that just made everything better. 

"Merry Christmas, Loki."


	4. Satisfaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure Frostiron smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a break from CMT, sooooo, I wrote this! I'd forgotten how fun writing pure, raw smut could be.

"Spread your legs wider. Yeah--right there. That's perfect." Tony reached between those milky thighs and stroked up their warm flesh, feeling the muscles beneath quiver and tickle his palms. He couldn't see Loki's face because of the angle, but the sounds he was making were enough to make Tony's cock throb desperately in his boxers. He wanted. Fuck, how he wanted. There was something about having a supposed god on his knees that made him feel so damn--powerful. "Look at me." He fisted raven hair and jerked Loki's head to the side. "Look at me, Lokes." 

It took a minute, but that sassy tongue he was so used to started wagging. "And exactly why should I do anything you say?" Loki nipped at the fingers that tucked a loose strand of black out of his eyes, baring them for his own private viewing. "You are not the master of me, Anthony." 

"Remind me to give you a crash course later on American lingo. It's called being the boss of someone. Not their master. That's a whole other ball park, gorgeous. We're not quite there yet." Tony ground himself against that pert backside and listened to Loki groan, his fists making a mess of the silk sheets. Well worth it. "Relax a little. You're too tense. You act like you've already got a stick up your ass." 

Loki laughed, husky and sarcastic. "Were it yours, I can't imagine my feeling the slightest bit tense." And yet he matched one of Tony's thrusts with his own, feathery lashes giving a quick, telling flutter. Silvertongue or not, he was no master of the poker face. Not like this. Not when Tony had him on his knees in bed, stripped naked and sweat slick while he devoured every inch of that stunning body with his hands. 

"You know what? That hurts. I thought we'd built up a better relationship than that." He bent over that exposed back and scratched the length of it with his blunted fingernails, infesting the wounds with their sweat, whatever else Loki would probably claim he had under there. Weird that a space viking would have problems with hygiene, but there you have it. "C'mon Loki. Live a little." 

"Do you not consider our positions living?" 

Living was an understatement. They were thriving. He didn't say that though, watching Loki toss his his head until dark hair again fell over his face, hiding one of those vibrant irises from view. Tony could still see the one though, and it shone with desire. Wanton need. Damn, was that hot. "That's a good look for you. I like it. Very erotic." He pushed his boxers down and took his cock in hand, slicking it up with his own precum. "I can think of something better though."

The first push was rough, jarring even the trickster as he groaned and bit at the sheets. "I can only imagine what filth your mind has concocted," Loki husked, canting his hips. Tony was pretty pleased to hear the raw edge to his voice. Looks like gods were subject to the rules of pleasure too. "Anthony, cease with the riddles! I need-"

"I know baby. And you'll get it." Burying his hand in that soft hair, Tony used it like a makeshift set of reins and held on tight, thrusting hard into that pliable, slicked sheath. "Cheater. You used a lubrication spell, didn't you?" He'd recognize that warm, tingling sensation anywhere. "Did I tell you you could do that?" 

"Nhh--no.." Loki mewled as he was invaded again, Tony's cock rubbing up against his prostate. "But you're not the boss of me, Anthony. Or have you forgotten your own words?" 

Tony smirked. "Nope." He pulled out and fingered Loki's hole, its rim puffy and pink, easily breached with just the right amount of pressure. "Believe me, I know exactly what I said. You're the one forgetting things, Lokes, not me." Waiting for that breathless cry that made Loki shudder from head to toe, Tony realigned himself and watched the trickster sob as he was fucked hard and rough, his cheekbones stained with vivid pink as their rhythm had the bed jostling beneath their knees. 

"A-Anthony....." the tears rolled down Loki's face, wetting the corner of his lips. Seeing Loki so out of control in comparison to his normally pristine self was a vision, and Tony embraced it completely.

"I'm right here gorgeous." He kissed the back of his neck as the sound of their flesh smacking together grew louder, drowning out his mewls. His cock was aching inside of the god, ready to explode. Judging by the way Loki was gyrating into the mattress, keening like a cat in heat, he wasn't much better off. "Shh...it's ok. Just let go." Tony took hold of his length and stroked him to completion, guiding Loki through it until he came with a hoarse shout, his head tossed back and showing off ruddy skin, wide eyes, lashes that fluttered frantically when the inventor pulled out and released all over his lower back. 

"There we go. That's the look I wanted to see." Him, aching and flushed, crying as his climax was milked out of him by Tony's steady hand, his own splattered across that white skin in hot little pearls. "You're beautiful," Tony purred, gently coaxing Loki onto his back so he could see him face to face. "You hear me? You're fucking stunning. I could stare at you all day." 

Unable to catch a single breath, Loki laughed and blearily wiped away his tears. He missed several, including the ones that glistened like jewels in his eyes. "I doubt I'll be moving anytime soon. You might as well enjoy yourself." 

Tony shared a grin with the god and kissed him solidly on the mouth, feeling the dampness there, and the moans still quivering throughout his entire body. He was still susceptible. Tony could take advantage of that. "Don't worry," nuzzling beneath his jaw, he eyed Loki's pearly green and worked his hand back down between those spread thighs. "I will."


	5. Party Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in minor celebration of the new year. Just Thor and Tony drinking, having a few laughs, and shamelessly staring at Loki. Good times all around!

The crowd roared and cheered as Thor guzzled down another glass of beer and then tossed it to the floor, arms raised and laughter bellowing deep from his throat. "Another!!" They cheered louder, every single person in the room as drunk as he was. Someone pushed a fresh bottle into his hand while a gorgeous blond hung off his arm, whispering some sexy fantasies into his ear. If he weren't so drunk, he'd take her up on them. He did give her a wet, sloppy kiss though, chuckling against her lips while he stumbled into the living room to face another hoard of college students and the aromas of liquor and stale cigarette smoke. 

It was the party of the year. Everyone on campus was celebrating, cheering on the winning streak of the football team. They'd won five games in a row, were going strong, and everybody was high off the thrill of winning. The booze was just a formality. A fun formality. And everyone was taking advantage of the free flowing beer, wine, vodka, rum, whatever the hell else Stark had dragged out from his fancy bar. Thor personally was working on his sixth--scratch that, seventh drink. 

"Tony!" He abandoned his company and pushed his way past the crowds and entered the kitchen, laughing at the sight of his friend surrounded by a whole gaggle of people, everyone holding a drink in their hands. Some were clearly more fucked in the head than by anything alcohol had to offer. Stark wasn't one of them though. But he was completely drunk off his ass. "I see you've already made yourself comfortable," Thor chuckled, clasping him hard on the shoulder. "You'd better not be hoarding all the beer for yourself!"

"Beer? Haha. Very funny, Borson. You know I've got better tastes than that!" Tony embraced the giggles of the group converged around him and drank deeply from the plastic cup in his hand. Thor didn't need to see its contents to know it was something really strong, and probably just a shade over legality. That was Tony though; always had to be two steps ahead of everyone, and toeing the line of trouble day in and day out. "So! What's your poison? I've got vodka, hypnotiq, some everclear if you're interested." Tony winked, pressing a sloppy kiss on one of the girls clinging to him. "Or maybe you need something a little more...visceral."

Knowing him, visceral meant someone with a perfect rack and legs to match. Tony had a type. So did Thor, and while plenty of ladies matched his requirements, he was looking for a drink right now. Sex could come later. "Give me the best you've got," he dared, thrusting an empty cup at the billionaire's son. 

Two drinks later and Thor was so completely intoxicated the room looked like a disco on hyper drive. Whatever Tony had given him, it was definitely the best. "Keep them coming," Thor growled, smacking the empty cup down on the counter as Tony laughed and splashed another round of pungent black from a weird glass bottle with a drawing on front....was that a squid? An octopus? Thor couldn't tell. It had the suckers, and the wriggly legs. He squinted at it, downing half the liquid in one go. 

"Woh!" Bronzed fingers grasped his wrist, making him put it down. "Careful there big guy. That stuff's a knockout!" Tony filled him up and set the jug back on the marble counter. "You don't want to---oh." His eyes narrowed into slits, hot and bothered. "Forget the drink. Now THERE'S a knockout." 

It took a few tries for Thor to straighten up and figure out where Tony was looking. Everything was fuzzy, and hot, making things blur together. "What're you talking about?" 

"You kidding?" Hot under the collar, Tony pointed at a spot near the doorway. The way he was tensing up, licking his lips, he almost resembled a dog about to pounce on a juicy bone. "The brunette, man. Look at him!"

"Him?" Now he had to see what he was talking about. Thor focused, brusquely pushing one of the party goers out of the way to get a better view. Last he checked, Tony Stark didn't do guys. Sure, there were a few rumors going around about him having the hots for a certain blond quarterback, but that was just a rumor. Seeing his lusts in the flesh was a whole other ball game. Thor grimaced when he didn't immediately spot anything though, sluggishly shaking his head. "I don't see-"

Yes he did. There. Tall, pale as marble, with raven hair that was brushed back from his brow in a casually slicked style. Tendrils masked his ears, the nape of his neck, and perfectly groomed brows were arched over the most viciously stunning pair of green eyes Thor had ever seen. It was enough visual eye candy to make him start drooling. He might be now. Hard to tell, with the roof of his mouth being slightly numb from the liquor. 

"Wow...." Thor clenched his hand, barely noticing the alcohol spilling out across it. His eyes were on the guy, following him as he stopped to talk to a few people, exasperation written across his face. He'd almost entirely forgotten about Tony until he was up at his side and ogling the brunette with the patented shamelessness he called the Stark charm. 

"Now that is one sexy piece of work. You know him? I've never seen him before. Maybe he's a freshman." 

Yeah right. "Like you haven't worked your way through all the new meat," Thor snorted. This one didn't belong to their circles, or any of the crowds he usually traveled through. With facial features like those, he wasn't a jock. He looked like a living, breathing statue. One minute on the field and he'd get snapped in two. Unless he was flexible. Thor wouldn't mind figuring that out for himself. 

As hard as he was admiring the brunette, Tony was just as bad. "Looks like an artist. He probably lives on the upper quadrant." He sipped his drink and stared at Loki over the rim. Thor knew that look. He was figuring out best how to divide and conquer. "I bet he's a regular hellcat in bed. You see those legs? Fuck, those hands? I need that man. Like, now. Right now." 

Funny. He'd never thought him and Tony would share a similar taste in men, but there was the living example in the flesh, just ten feet away from them. "Uhuh." Thor tossed the remainder of his drink down and threw the empty cup over his shoulder. He'd decided. "You get the next one. That's mine." 

"In your dreams. I saw him first, Borson." Tony grinned at him, matching Thor's ferocity toe to toe. "C'mon. You really think you're his type? He doesn't look like the kind of guy to swoon over some scraggly, muscly caveman." He slid off his stool and made his way around the kitchen table. The swagger to his steps wasn't entirely caused by the liquor. "I've got this. You just sit back, watch a master work." 

"What're you gonna do? Drool on him?" Thor fisted the back of Tony's shirt and tossed him to the side, bounding ahead before he could stop him. Or try to anyway. Built like a tank and twice as strong, there wasn't a huge chance of compact little Stark being able to do much damage. Besides. Thor's eye was on the prize. He wasn't giving up that gorgeous minx without a fight. 

The crowds parted pretty easily when they were facing an intoxicated footballer. Smart choice. He'd barrel through them all without a second thought, double time if they kept him from wasting a single moment getting to know those sculpted limbs more intimately. But their owner kept disappearing further into the house, and Thor was struggling to keep up. Turns out being drunk had its drawbacks. 

"Where--?" Thor swore under his breath. Damn. One wave of people had swallowed him up. He couldn't see anything, except empty bottles and chip bowls, and Tony heading towards him like a charging bull--oh. 

"Don't you even think about it! I called dibs!" 

He slammed into Thor head on, knocking him flat on his ass. There was a loud tinkling in his ears, like shattered glass, plus Tony was shouting at the top of his lungs. And Thor swore he felt something cold and jagged under his palms, mingling with the sharper pokes of giant splinters. That didn't matter though. Since when did Tony learn to tackle like that? Thor must have been drunker than he thought, if shrimps were starting to push him around. 

"Dibs huh? So this is how you handle a little friendly competition?" Everything crunched beneath his feet when the blond shoved himself upright, stumbling a step or two before he-somewhat-caught his balance. And through it all he smiled, all teeth and fiery blue eyes that promised a brawl. A drunken brawl. Pretty much every frat party had to have one. "Don't do anything stupid, Stark. He's fair game." 

"My house, my party. My guest. That makes him MY fair game, Borson! Go find yourself some tits to fondle." Tony kicked the wreckage aside and jabbed Thor in the chest. If he swayed while he did it, well--no, actually, Thor barely noticed. He wasn't much better off. "Don't you jocks have a reputation to uphold anyway? You can't go screwing some strange guy!"

The jab made him swagger, but he successfully smacked Tony's hand away, stormy blues narrowing in irritation. "And you can? What makes you so damn special?" 

"Uh, I just told you. MY house, MY party! That means I get the first dibs. I saw him before you anyway," Tony nearly fell flat on his ass when he tried to shove Thor back, and they collided together. That started a whole new argument, until they were punching and grabbing at each other's hair like a couple of teenagers. Drunken ones, but it wasn't all that different either way. And they didn't stop, even when a group of people crowded around them and started cheering them on. Thor swore he saw red a few times, when the spinning colors stopped, and he tangled his fingers in Tony's hair, prepared to bash his head against his knee. Then--

"Excuse me. If you two drunken reprobates can stop killing each other for a minute, I'd like to ask you a question." 

Just like that, the fighting stop. Because somehow, they both knew that the only person who could own such a cultured voice in this house of stupefied, liquored up college students would be him. Tony and Thor's heads both jerked to the side at the same time, taking in the man dressed from head to toe in black, except for the forest green t-shirt stretched tight over a chest that was sculpted, fuckable. Thor knew he wasn't the only one thinking about pinning the guy down and rubbing his cock across those muscles. 

Where he was stunned silent by him though, Tony had already opened his big mouth. "Well hello there beautiful," he drawled. "Ask me whatever you want. I'm an open book." He straightened up and fixed his clothes, grinning at the stranger while all Thor could do was just gawk. He was even more stunning up close. Those green eyes were like two flawless gems, maybe emerald, or peridot. God, and that MOUTH. Thor wanted to lean in and see if it tasted as good as it looked. 

He wasn't getting the chance though. The brunette took one look at them and then pushed them apart. He was strong, surprisingly so. That was hot. "I don't have time to stand here and let the two of you devour me like I'm some stupid eye candy. The only reason I'm even here is because I heard you two were the hosts of this....event." The sarcastic way his mouth quirked made it pretty clear what he thought of the party. "You two are them, right? Thor Borson and Anthony Stark?"

Ha! He said his name first. Thor smiled stupidly and stuck out his hand, ignoring Tony's muttering about how his name was Tony, not Anthony. "Thor. What's your name?" 

"Loki." Nose wrinkling, the stranger now dubbed as Loki gave it a quick shake before he wiped his hand on his pants. "What were you doing, bathing in alcohol? You both reek." 

"It's a party! Loosen up. Have a few drinks." Suddenly cheerful again, Tony slung his arm around Loki's shoulders and smirked at him. "I make a mean martini. No...you look more like the mixed drink kinda guy. What's your poison, sweetheart? Screwdrivers? Liquid cocaine?" He swirled his fingertips across the spot where fabric melded into skin. "Absinthe? I've got a bottle upstairs, never opened. We could-"

"If you're thinking about propositioning me, don't. I'm not interested." Loki's lips curled back in a wicked smile, and he pushed a surprised Tony back towards Thor. "Your friend's an idiot. And very drunk. I'd suggest finding better company, if you plan on sticking around for much longer." 

Thor let the drunken Stark slide off him and fall against the couch, because wow, there was a surprise. Who said no to him? "That an offer?" His hopes lifted, he reached for the brunette, but Loki side stepped him and shook his head.

"I don't think so. Overbearing muscles really aren't my thing." Loki brushed back a few wayward locks of his hair and smirked at Thor, plus the unsteady figure of his friend who was just managing to pick himself up. "As you two are the party's hosts, you seemed like the most obvious choices to ask whether or not you'd seen my boyfriend. He's tall, dark haired? Wearing a leather jacket? His friends call him Bucky." He paused, looking between them both. "No?"

Boyfriend? Thor mouthed the word, and Tony repeated it, infuriated. "Boyfriend?!" 

"Yes..." mischief gleamed in Loki's eyes. "Did you assume I was here alone?" He chuckled. "Of course you did. I'm not sure if I should feel insulted, or flattered. What would make the both of you think I was single? Hm? Or was that simply wishful thinking?" 

Wishful thinking. Most definitely wishful thinking. Thor frowned, put out and more crushed than he cared to admit. Tony was too, judging by the way he was staring at Loki and pretty much pouting. "Did you want anything else? 'Cause we haven't seen your boyfriend." Full on sulking now, he crossed his arms and scowled. "Huh?" 

"Actually, there was something.....but I can't seem to remember what it was!" Loki laughed, turning heel to walk away. "Borson? You might want to keep your friend on a leash. Someone's going to get really offended if he keeps trying to hump every person that crosses his path." 

While Tony threw a hissy fit and spat obscenities under his breath, Thor roared with laughter, clapping him hard on the shoulder. "I'll try to! Most take it as a compliment." And he understood Tony's disappointment anyway. Boyfriend or not, Loki was ridiculously attractive. Thor's intoxicated mind had already concocted half a dozen lewd scenarios involving him and an empty stretch of wall. Too bad he couldn't convince him to stay, see some of them through. "You sure you can't stick around?" If he sounded hopeful, then he blamed it on the alcohol. "I could help you look for--Bucky, right?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I don't trust you two slobs to stand upright, much less help me search. Besides, you'll be too busy running." Loki tossed him a grin over his shoulder, looking every inch a conniving little brat. Thor was startled, and too busy trying to put together what he was talking about to hide his obvious gawking. 

"Running..?"

"Isn't that what you jock types do when the cops show up? Run like cowards, afraid for your precious scholarships?" He gave Thor a few seconds to put everything together; running, cops, scholar--oh. OH shit!! "I remember now, that other thing I was going to tell you. Someone next door called the police. Something about..oh...a noise violation." Loki paused at the doorway, skillfully maneuvering around the people crowded there. How he got his voice to carry back to Thor without shouting was a miracle. "Unless you want to get arrested, I'd suggest you scatter, and get Stark tucked away somewhere safe." 

"Right. Thanks." Thor watched the brunette until he disappeared with a teasing wink and then grabbed Tony around the middle, hoisting him over his shoulder. "C'mon man, we've got to go." Tony groaned, sluggishly slapping the middle of his back, but it was easy enough to ignore him and keep going. Somehow he knew Loki was telling the truth, and he wasn't about to risk it anyway. Thor wasn't THAT drunk. He was pretty sure of that anyway. 

Besides. Maybe he'd get lucky and bump into Loki again. Boyfriend or not, there was no reason he couldn't ogle him, right?


	6. Of Braids and Tolkien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is fascinated with Loki's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't explain this. I got stuck on the idea of Loki getting his hair braided, and Thor being obsessed with it. Yeah...I seriously dunno.

"You're staring at me." 

Loki's blunted words caught him off guard, but Thor didn't yet tear his eyes away from the cause of his utter fascination. Because Loki was right; he was staring. And the cause were those raven strands of silk combed back from the trickster's pale brow, hanging loose to his shoulders in rippling waves until they stopped--and a thick, roping braid took their place. It was unusual, seeing those locks bound and tied, and he longed to reach out to learn how the skein would feel against his skin. 

Perhaps the depths of Thor's curiosity reached him, because Loki turned abruptly in his well loved and cushioned armchair and frowned at him, closing the book perched atop his thighs. "If you mean to keep at it, can you at least attempt some modicum of subtlety? Your attentiveness is disturbing, and it distracts me." 

"...Aye. My apologies, brother." 

Thor wasn't sorry at all, and he was certain his brother knew it too. Though he huffs and leaves the thunderer to his own devices, Loki is clearly on edge because of the twin steel blue orbs gazing at him without end. Amused with it all, Thor waits until finally those pink lips curl into a scowl and breach with a sigh of frustration. "You're doing it again." Loki tilts his head up and gives him the dirtiest look he could muster. It only makes Thor smile more. "By all means, Thor, speak. Something has clearly caught your interest. Tell me what it is, so I may go back to my reading in peace."

Should he tell him? Pondering it for a moment, Thor moved closer to the chair and then gathered Loki's braid in his hand, feeling its weight, the warmth of each individual strand as he wrapped it around his fist. "Your hair," Thor drawled, giving a light tug to coax Loki's head back. "You've never worn it like this before." 

Loki frowned. "You're fascinated by my hair? That's what all this is about?" He recoiled away from the affection and tried to rise from his seat, the book carefully clutched in his right hand. "You're a fool. It's only hair." 

"It's yours." His thumb stroked up the braid's length until he reached the back of his brother's white neck. Thor held it tenderly and made Loki take a seat again, giving him ample opportunity to settle himself again, those long legs curled up on the leather cushion. "It is most becoming, Loki. Why have you never dressed your hair like this in the past?" It wasn't as if braids were uncommon. Thor had two small plaits himself. They were a sign of strength, power. Though on Loki, they were also quite beautiful. 

"Because it was never my prerogative to do so. I was cornered by the Lady Widow and Miss Potts. They insisted they be allowed to do something with my hair. Apparently it has grown quite long," Loki reached back to touch the ties keeping his braid together, a simple band of emerald dyed leather. "They also informed me that I was beginning to resemble a Tolkien elf." 

Thor's brow puckered with confusion. "You are no elf. What would inspire them to make such a comparison?" 

"Myself, if you would believe it. This Tolkien character is quite famous for his literature of a fantastical nature. And his version of elves are described to be fair of face, with hair that is both long and sumptuous, left to cover them like a shroud." Teasing a stray lock of black away from his face, Loki watched Thor return to playing with his braid, each of his fingertips wandering across its interlocked strands. "You are fascinated by it, aren't you? Thor, it's only a braid. You're hardly unfamiliar with them." 

"Forgive me if I am so entranced by your loveliness. Is that now a crime," Thor teased, leaning down to kiss the corner of his brother's lips. "It suits you well, Loki. Have they expressed what other wonders they might achieve with your ever so glorious mane?" 

"Jest all you'd like, you overgrown boar. It makes no difference to me." But it did, Thor knew it did, because he knew Loki far better than he would ever be inclined to admit. Chuckling heartily, he watched the trickster settle down with his book, stubbornly ignoring him. There was no deterring Thor from toying with his hair though. All too soon Loki seemed to realize that, because he sighed and granted Thor free rein with it, tilting his head slightly to the side. "..Tomorrow. They talked of taking over the lounge and having me choose another style they might best replicate while we...learned the wonders of Tolkien." 

Thor paused with his strokes, peering over Loki's shoulder. He was hardly affluent with Midgardian literature, but he had noticed the letters gilded across the book's spine. Although what was so entrancing about a hobbit, he wasn't sure. "Would you be vexed if I joined you? I am curious to see what else might be done." 

Loki's lips pursed, fingertips scrolling across the book's yellowed pages. "I suppose I can hardly stop you. But if you intend to spend the whole time annoying me, Thor, then I can promise that you will pay dearly for it." 

"I would pay any price to have your company," Thor promised, kissing the top of his head. "Relax, Loki. My curiosity is genuine. If this is but one of the ideas Lady Potts and the Widow have planned, then I am eager to see the rest come to fruition." He gave his brother a brief hug and then settled back against the chair, patiently toying with Loki's hair while he enjoyed his book. It spoke volumes when Loki allowed it, looking up only once to give him a strange frown before he returned to his reading, muttering quietly under his breath. 

"You grow more sentimental with each passing day..."

"Aye. And I do so proudly, without complaint."


	7. Unfair Bets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers place a bet on who can get Loki the best gift.

It started off as a joke. No, really, it did. Some simpering fan had thrown herself at Loki’s feet after a battle and offered him a present, her blushing thanks on repeat until he accepted it. The poor guy had looked so shocked, but he’d thanked her genuinely enough and sent her on her way. Turns out, the present was a small handkerchief embroidered in gold. Pretty simple, right? Especially for a so called god. Except Loki genuinely seemed to like the stupid thing; Clint claimed he’d seen him walking out of the tower with it tucked snugly in the breast pocket of one of his many suits. And that got them wondering. Then debating. If some random fan could give the guy something he really liked, one of them could totally do better. Right? Right. So, like children, the Avengers set a challenge amongst each other. Whoever got Loki the best present won. They pooled their funds as reward, Stark threw in a few bottles of rare scotch to sweeten the deal, and the game was on. 

One week in and they were all scrambling to learn everything they could about their tricky ally, figure out the best thing to get. No one really had any particular advantage. Thor had opted to stay out of the competition entirely to keep things fair, and served as a judge so they could know when Loki was really, really happy with a present, get a glimpse past his poker face. That left them all on even footing. Sure, Barton had sort of been in the guy’s mind forever ago, and even fondly called him ‘boss’ again, but their time together hadn’t really been spent building bonds or gossiping about Loki‘s interests, discounting world domination. He was relying on his wits and cunning, just like the rest of them. Oh. And the spying. There was plenty of that going on. 

Another week passed and everyone was at each other’s throats. Turns out Loki was extremely hard to please, and they hadn’t even shown their gifts yet! After obsessively watching him for the past two weeks in a feeble attempt to figure out what the hell the guy would like, every single one of the Avengers were still scratching their heads. And since none of them were exactly prepared to concede defeat, they did the only thing possible. They spent as much time with Loki as possible. There was only one trickster god to go around though, and five of them. 

It worked about as smoothly as one could expect. When Tony wasn’t being a selfish bastard and hogging all the attention for himself, Natasha and Clint were constantly trying to one up each other, stealing each other’s ideas seemingly right out of the other’s head. Steve and Bruce were the only ones who weren’t being vindictive bastards about all this. Then again, they had different means about going about things anyway. They took the more sentimental approach, while everyone else aimed for glitz and usefulness. Or, in Clint’s case, amusement. Still, it wasn’t long before Loki caught on to what they were up to. Maybe he even knew from the beginning. Nobody would be surprised. But when he did finally acknowledge what they were up to, things didn’t become any easier. Hell, he deliberately made them harder. Dropping sly little hints every five seconds, never giving his loyalty to just one of them, teasing everybody with his quips and pandering remarks. Was it any wonder why Loki had come to fit so well in the team? 

By the end of the third week, the bet had gotten way out of hand, and Loki was clearly basking in the attention. He thrived on chaos though, so it wasn’t all that surprising that he was enjoying himself. It was only after Thor had to come between Clint and Tony after a loud shouting match that it was unanimously decided that everyone would present their gifts that coming Sunday, and they could finally all stop trying to kill each other. Hopefully. Someone still had to win, after all. Since Thor had decided to add some Asgardian ale to the betting pool, a drink that he promised would even get Steve drunk, they were all eager to see who was going to win. 

That Sunday everyone congregated in the living room in Avengers Tower, their presents in hand. Loki was already there, relaxed as could be in his pressed wool trousers and cashmere sweater, sipping casually at a mug of tea clutched between his pale hands. One by one, he assessed their eager faces, mischief making an emerald fire in his eyes. “You all look so excited,” he drawled, accepting the variously wrapped parcels and decorative gift bags. The gifting wasn’t anonymous, but it didn’t need to be. Loki could have guessed who gave him what simply by the size and grandeur of each individual present. “And here I was under the impression that this was a harmless competition. Is this not a touch excessive?” He set one of the gifts on the coffee table, a garment bag with a giant red bow stuck on front. 

“Who cares? We’re in this to win.” That would be Tony. He tapped the bag’s zipper impatiently, all but glowing with excitement. That might have something to do with his arc reactor though. “C’mon Lokes! Lets get this show on the roll. Some of us want to enjoy our spoils of war.” 

Smirking like a cat that ate the canary, Loki settled down to open his own spoils. What a surprise, the garment bag was from Stark. Inside was a suit that practically screamed expensive, paired with a green silk waistcoat that was tooled in gold. Figures. Loki stroked his palm over the rich materials before he gave Tony a knowing grin and moved on to the rest of the gifts under the watchful eye of his brother. And they were impressive, albeit in different ways. 

In keeping with the grandiose theme, Natasha had given him a stunning pea coat with a collar draped in silver fur. It was chic, with a distinctly Russian vibe, though it did look a touch feminine as well with the way it was tailored and cut. Judging by the way Loki's whole face lit up, he adored it. Then there was Clint's gift, and wasn't it a surprise! "Tasha and I sort of had the same idea, but I thought you could use that Boss." It was a whole box of different makeup products, ranging from nail polish to eye shadow, and skin creams he promised would keep the god's skin soft and supple. There were a few scented oils too, and some flavored. Clint didn't need to say what those were for. 

Thor wasn't pleased. In fact, he was already growling a harsh retort before Loki thanked the archer with a startling amount of sincerity. Doubly surprising, he even gave Clint a kiss on the cheek. While Natasha giggled and everyone else looked on in shock, Clint included, Loki resumed opening his two remaining presents. 

Steve and Bruce had both gotten him something in complete opposite of their fellow Avengers. From the captain, there was a book of Arthurian tales with beautifully detailed sketches he confessed to having drawn himself. He'd had the book rebound to include them, and sincerely hoped Loki didn't mind. He didn't. It seemed like Loki was going to start devouring the book then and there before he remembered Bruce's gift, which was the smallest of the bunch. "Those always help me, when I'm feeling a little tense," he explained, while Loki stared at the individual tins of herbal teas. "The chamomile especially should help you sleep." 

Everyone shared a frown with that one. "Brother?" Thor laid a hand on Loki's shoulder, but he shrugged it off and gave Bruce a smile that wasn't quite affectionate, but definitely thankful. Like, really thankful. There was some food for thought, which no doubt would have the whole tower talking up a storm for a while. Still, that was all the gifts, which meant it was decision making time. 

"So Jadis?" Tony hovered over the god, wearing a proud smirk. "What do you think? Which of us is the best gift giver?" 

Busy stroking his fingers across each of the presents, Loki peered up at them all and lazily quirked a brow. "Impatient, aren't we? I wasn't under the impression I had to make a choice immediately. In fact, if I recall, that was never part of the original bargain. You all can't have your winner until I make my decision." Tracing the furred collar of his new coat, the trickster smugly sat back on the couch and crossed his legs. "Very well. Seeing as you are all so eager. The winner of your little bet is..."

They waited, breath bated, and finally Loki's lips spread in a smug little smile. "Jarvis." He gave them no time to respond, a flash of green hued seidr conjuring a small rectangular box to his right hand. Wait, not a box. A-

"Is that a phone?!" 

"Indeed. Stark's sentient creation was kind enough to bestow me with a gift of his own." Loki held up the device and smiled brightly. It had a stunning metal case painted the color of black chrome, with detailing in gold. "He explained that it was the very best Stark technology had to offer, and he designed it specifically with me in mind. Is that correct, Jarvis?" 

"That is correct, Mr. Laufeyson. I hope it has served you well." The AI's voice filtered through the room, and he sounded improperly smug. Was that even possible? Apparently yes, yes it was. "Forgive me the surprise, but I couldn't help but include myself in your shenanigans." 

They were all caught off guard, but expectantly it was Tony who responded most poorly. "Shenanigans? J, you and me need to have a talk later. I think you're picking up some bad habits buddy. And since when were you part of the bet??" 

"Yeah," Clint argued. "What could you have to barter with? Circuit boards?" 

"Actually, Miss Potts was kind enough to give my access to her private bank accounts. Temporarily, of course. You will find my contribution in the form of a bottle of Bordeaux, Sir." Yup. Jarvis definitely sounded smug. Worse, Loki was still wearing that cattish grin that all but labeled the two of them as co-conspirators. "I do hope you find it tasteful, Mr. Laufeyson."

"I'm certain it will be delightful, Jarvis. Thank you." Loki gave them all an innocent expression when six pairs of eyes rounded on him, accusing and curious, though the latter applied more to Banner and Rogers than the others. "Is something amiss? I was under the impression that you lot considered Stark's AI an important member of your team. Or does his contribution not count, simply because he is a creation, not mortal?" He shook his head, bemused. "Jarvis asked if he might play a part in your little game but a scant week ago, and I saw no reason to refute him. He is as valid a team member as the rest of you in my eyes. Perhaps you are all merely aggravated because he is a more skillful gift giver than you." Rising to his feet, Loki held up the phone and focused it on them, snapping a picture before any of them could respond. "And it immortalizes the most amusing memories so easily! I must thank you again, Jarvis. It is a lovely present."

While the others debated amongst each other and argued, Stark's voice notably the loudest, Jarvis responded with a most pleased tone. "Your thanks are unnecessary, Mr. Loki, but I'm happy you enjoy it. Thank you for choosing me as the victor. Please, feel free to take the spoils as your own. I hope you enjoy them."

"I've no doubt I will. You really are far too kind to me, Jarvis." With another flash Loki spelled away his other gifts, the phone remaining clutched in his left hand. "Now that this foolish contest is over, I will see myself out. There is a bottle of Bordeaux waiting for me, and Jarvis assured me it is of the most impeccable vintage." Giving each of them a warm, teasing grin, the trickster calmly left the room without looking back, leaving them in silence, six pairs of eyes meeting before they turned up to the ceiling. 

".....We were duped." Clint broke the silence first, followed by a boisterous laugh from Thor. 

"Aye, my friends! But it was a kindly jest on Loki's part, nothing more. He played such tricks on me often when we were children. They are a sign of his affection." Still laughing, Thor went after his brother. He probably intended to share that wine with him. All the rest of them were silent, stunned into witlessness and, in some of their cases, amusement. It took a minute or two, but then Steve's chuckling started up, then Bruce and Tony's. Soon enough they were all laughing as loudly as Thor had been, reveling in the exasperating hilarity of it all. Because they'd been tricked by the god of mischief, and his apparent partner in crime, a sentient caretaker. A caretaker who apparently knew the god better than any of them. And didn't that just figure?


	8. Finals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pressure of finals is starting to get to Loki's head. Luckily Thor is there to help make things a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College AU~! I wanted to write Loki being deeply entrenched in his finals, because reasons.

"FUCK!" Loki slammed the book shut and shoved it away, irritation bubbling in his veins. He knew he could do this! He knew it! But his patience was buckling to a point where the chances of him snapping completely were high. Dangerously high. Loki seethed, scowling at the notebooks and laptop set up on the coffee table. The words on them were all blurring together into nonsensical babble. He couldn't focus, but he HAD to! Finals were already in full swing, and he still had two classes left to knock out before he was finished. 

Head in his hands, he sucked in several shaky breaths and resisted the urge to burst into tears. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped. His eyes were burning in two seconds flat, just in time for him to hear the front door open and--

"Loki!" Thor's boisterous voice filled the room. It was joined by the sound of bags rustling, and the delicious smell of takeout as the blond wandered deeper into the room. "I thought you'd be holed up in the library! You never like to study here." 

Feeling his throat grow tight as he suppressed a harsh sob, Loki pretended to be absorbed in his notes. "It was overcrowded. I couldn't get a moment's peace." Subtly, he angled his body to the side, fearing exposure. "Shouldn't you be at Sif's, celebrating? Your finals are over." 

"That they are! But Sif still has one to go, so she's at her dorm studying." There was more noise as Thor took the bags into their apartment's interconnected kitchen and started unpacking the food. Italian, by the smell of it. In no time at all he had a bowl of steaming spaghetti that he carried into the living room. If Loki's stomach wasn't too busy roiling, he might have felt tempted. But it was. He grimaced, careful to keep his face carefully turned away, praying his flushed cheeks weren't a dead giveaway. 

Of course it was. Because fucking Thor, only attentive when Loki least wanted him to be. "Loki? Are you ok?" The bowl of food appeared in his peripheral vision, right on top of his advanced mythology notes. Then came Thor, crouching down beside him with a frown. "Loki?"

"Leave me alone. I'm trying to study." Loki shoved the bowl off his notebook and focused on it, painfully aware of those stormy blue eyes watching him. No, not watching. Assessing. Thor wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he wasn't dumb either. And it was dangerous to have him paying such close attention. "Thor, I told you to leave me alone! I'm-"

"Crying." The blond grabbed his chin and forcefully tilted Loki's head to the side, roaming his eyes over every inch of his blanched features. "You're crying, Loki." Thor swiped a stray tear off his cheek. Damn. Loki hadn't even realized he'd started crying. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" 

Loki smacked his hand away, scowling at the coffee table. "Nothing's wrong, you idiot! Now go away!" The chances of that actually happening were slim though. Loki knew that better than anyone. "Thor, please. Just go away," he sighed and looked at Thor from the corner of his eye. "I have to have this all memorized by Friday. My scholarship's counting on it." 

"Your scholarship? Loki...is that really what you're worried about? You're one of the smartest guys studying here! You don't need to worry about your grades." Laughter bloomed from Thor's chest. "Honestly Loki, one of these days you're going to give yourself grey hair." 

Did--was Thor really laughing at him? "Maybe that's the mindset you have, but some of us actually give a damn about getting a good education! We can't all be stupid, muscled jocks getting by with barely passable grades because their daddy has a good name!" Loki pushed the offending idiot away and gathered up as many of his notebooks and papers as he possibly could. "Some of us have to work, Thor! Work hard! Do you even know what that's like? How stressful it can be?" 

To his credit, Thor didn't retaliate as Loki would have expected him to. "You're stressed. Loki, this is exactly what I'm talking about! If you keep at it, you're going to make yourself sick." Or worse. It was silently implied, but that didn't stop the brunette from bristling, self conscious. 

"Of course I'm stressed! Isn't that what I just said?" He shot daggers at Thor while he finished collecting his stuff. It was a hefty weight in his arms, and Loki almost stumbled, catching himself by sheer luck. Fuck, he was tired, hungry, emotionally wrecked. Once finals were over, he'd be all the happier for it. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be studying in my room. Try to keep it down," Loki muttered. 

For one brief, shining moment, it looked like Thor was going to let him go. That moment ended as quick as it began. "No." Thor rose with him and promptly took the books from his arms, setting them back on the table. "Enough studying. You need a break Loki." Smiling brightly, he took Loki by the wrists and forcefully sat him back down on the couch, stuffing the bowl of food into his hands. "Eat. Relax. It won't kill you, I promise."

"Are you kidding?" What the hell was the big oaf thinking?! "Thor, I don't have time to take a break! Didn't you hear what I said? My finals are Friday! In two days!! I have to-"

"Loki, the only thing you need to do is stop stressing yourself out." Thor took control, as he always did, and cupped Loki's face between his hands. "I know you. You've probably been in here, studying for hours. You haven't stopped for food, a drink, anything. And you're beating yourself up over it, because you worry. Pointlessly," he added with a stubborn frown. "You'll be fine, Loki, but you need to take a breather. Ok? If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me."

"For you?" Loki didn't mean to spit the words like he did, and almost immediately felt a twinge of guilt over it. Thor just seemed so...earnest. As always. He was just a lovable brute half the time anyway. Grimacing slightly, Loki fixated on the bowl of still piping hot spaghetti in his hands, rubbing his thumb over the rim. "You can't ask me to do this right now. I--Thor, I really need to study. Advanced mythology isn't exactly a walk in the park."

"I bet. But you're a genius, Loki. If anyone can get it nailed down, it's you. Besides," Thor got a teasingly fierce look on his face. "Who said anything about asking? If need be, I will resort to force." Grinning ear to ear, he captured Loki around the waist and dragged him against his side, fishing the remote out from under a stack of papers on the floor to turn on the tv. When Loki started, Thor pecked him on the brow and smudged another stray tear mark on his face. "Can't say I didn't warn you." 

Stubbornness was clearly a trait they shared. But Loki didn't really want to argue; he was too tired for that. "You're an ass," he mumbled, picking up the fork and spinning it around in the noodles, peevishly sticking a big helping in his mouth. He wanted to get back to his books. He still needed to brush up on the history of the Jotnar. Clearly though, that wasn't happening. And....well, he was hungry. 

"An hour. I'll give you an hour, Thor." Loki curled more into Thor's side and dug into his food, aware of the blond's smile even before he nuzzled the top of his head and laughed softly.

"Whatever you say Loki."


	9. Vintage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds a vintage coat, and Steve is all too willing to get it for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vintage is love, vintage is life. Especially when it involves fur. And this one is better when you know it's pre-serum Steve. Something about him and female Loki together is so....cute! I love it.

She looked perfect. Steve couldn't take his eyes off her, not even for a second. There was just something no undeniably...right about the way the coat hugged Loki's trim waist, flaring out to her knees while the collar hugged her neck with its supple, gunmetal grey fur. "Well look at you!" Steve took Loki's hands and held her back a few paces from him so he could admire her from head to toe. "How old is that thing?" 

"It's vintage, Steven." Loki squeezed his fingers and smiled, exuberance making her viridian eyes positively light up. "I can't pinpoint its exact origin date, of course. Not without proper research. But if I was to garner a guess, I'd say it's...mid-forties. Brushed wool, silk lining," she nuzzled the fur just under her chin with a little smile, "mink. A rare beauty, considering some of the more questionable items we've seen here today." 

"We're at a flea market, Loki. You can't really expect us to find any haute couture here." Chuckling softly, Steve let her go and simply admired the brunette for a few moments. She really did look amazing in that coat. Then again, Loki could make a flour sack look attractive if she really wanted to. She did things with a needle and thread and a few well placed accessories that he couldn't even comprehend. It was her own personal magic. "I think you're right though. It's definitely from the forties. I've seen photos at the museum of ladies wearing coats like this." He touched the sleeve, catching her eye. "Do I even want to know how much it costs?" 

Loki's smile waned, and she heaved a loud sigh. "I think not. Your frail heart couldn't handle such exorbitance." Pale digits worked the coat's cloth buttons out of their respective holes, showing off the flat stomach and well formed hips beneath the forest green material. Loki always looked well put together, her hair and clothes impeccable, but it didn't take a fashionista to see that one was definitely different than the other in this case. Even when one of them was vintage, and over fifty years old. 

"Now hang on just a second. My frail heart is a lot stronger than you think," Steve rolled his eyes and caught the collar of her newest find, pulling it closed before she could argue. "How much is it, Loki? I mean, it can't be that bad, right? We're at a flea market! They deliberately knock down the prices here."

Ruddy lips pursed with a stubborn frown. Loki fiddled with her furred cuff, and for the first time Steve noticed a small bit of string attached to it, with a bit of paper at its end. Most likely a price tag. "You're not wrong about that," she muttered, "but it's still far too expensive. Neither of us can afford it, Steven, and I am not in the habit of languishing over things I knowingly can't possess." 

Liar. She was going to stew over this for weeks if she really wanted the coat, and he could tell she did. Loki was practically salivating over it. "What's this we business? You don't know I can't afford it. You never asked," Steve pointed out with a teasing smile, catching the tag and--ah. Right. He rubbed his thumb over the inked numbers, wondering if they were just an illusion or something. Nope. No change. "Wow. You weren't kidding. That's--ah..that's a real doozy." 

"I did warn you. Even for a flea market, the price is outrageous. I wouldn't even dream of paying that." In other words, she couldn't. Loki pulled away and took the coat off, draping it back over the naked mannequin she'd surely snagged it from. "We should move on. Perhaps we can find you a new easel, or a tote for your supplies. You'd be surprised by all the odds and ends people bring to this sort of thing." 

Steve hated when she did that. "You know deflecting doesn't work on me." He hooked a finger through her belt loops and kept her still, ignoring her responsive scowl. Honestly, he thought she looked like an overgrown, disgruntled cat when she did that, and that made it pretty difficult not to laugh, or worse, admire her cuteness. "Look. I don't need a new easel. The one I've got now works just fine. And I don't mind carrying my pencils around in plastic bags. But this-" Steve thumbed the coat's grey collar, "this is a pretty rare find Loki. It's not really a bad deal either, all things considered." 

"You're insane. I can't afford to waste seventy five dollars on a coat," Loki argued, narrowing her eyes. "And neither can you. In case you've forgotten, we're both in school, Steven, with meaningless, menial jobs acting as our only source of income. We have rent to pay, groceries to buy-"

"Which we already took care of this month." He was blessed to have Loki as his girlfriend, but sometimes she wound herself up far too much for his liking. It wasn't healthy. "Loki, relax. I know you like to keep a tight grip on the purse strings, but I promise you, it's fine. I have plenty of money saved up. I can afford it." And he couldn't think of anyone better to spend his money on. Steve fished his wallet out of his back pocket and gave her an encouraging grin. "Come on. I don't get to spoil you very often. This'll be good for us both!"

"I fail to see what's good about you wasting your hard earned money," she muttered in return, arching a dark brow. Steve might've taken her seriously, except he knew that look. Loki was caving. She really wanted the coat, which overrode any annoyance with him. Good thing too, since he was pretty well determined now to get it for her. 

"It's my money, so I can spend it how I want." Loki was right about one thing though. They were college students, consistently broke and stressed. They had to take advantage of the simple pleasures in life when they could. Which was exactly what Steve planned to do. "Loki, look at me. Ok?" He took the coat back off the mannequin and draped it over her shoulders, then cupped those flustered cheeks between his hands. Steve always found their differences in size intriguing, particularly from in an artistic sense, but it was always nice to know that he didn't need strength to catch her eye. "Stop worrying about the money. I said I can afford it, and you know I wouldn't lie to you."

She did know. Begrudgingly as it might be, Loki gave a short nod. "Very well. But I won't be held accountable for this senseless frivolity. Buy it if you want, Steven. The choice is yours." That was her final say so before Loki all but shoved her arms back into the sleeves and buttoned herself up, a gleeful smile hidden behind the grey fur. Steve didn't need to see it to know it was there. He could pretty much sense it. 

"That's fine with me. Blame me all you want." He leaned up and pecked her on the cheek, lacing their hands together. "I'm not exactly being selfless here Loki. You might be the one wearing the coat, but I get to see you in it." Which was plenty enough encouragement for him. Steve grinned at the two circles of red that spotted her sharp cheekbones, tugging her towards the front of the market. "C'mon. Lets go pay."


End file.
